


The Swinging Mjolnir

by jadako



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, JEALOUSY HOHO, this is probably the best idea of my life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9789104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadako/pseuds/jadako
Summary: On the busiest street of New York City, a famous bar known as "The Swinging Mjolnir" is known for it's exotic crew.It is here that Jessica will find many things, with many questions and many different people.This bar isn't your ordinary bar, and these aren't your ordinary people.And in the beginning, she will find herself wondering; "What the fuck is a Mjolnir?"





	1. Prologue

 

It rushed through her, pulsating through her veins and making her head thump. She wasn't one to get headaches.

The adrenaline was riveting, exciting, pooling around her toes and hanging loosely from her fingers. Springing her ears, heightening her vision.

And yet, it was also a terrifying thing to witness.

Jessica's life had taken a turning point. In all honesty, it could be described as a sharp U-Turn that swung her to the side.

It seemed only moments ago that she was home.

And yet, what was home, really?

She had not experienced home yet.

Jessica had a house, a family, and friends. She had a life, schooling. 

But her home was neither there, nor with her.

And when taking risks, she was hoping to find some sort of solace in a different place to experience, and hopefully call home.

The sharp U-Turn was in actual fact a plane suddenly landing in a completely foreign country and city. And the adrenaline was the gravity shifting in her stomach, the sweat beads rolling down her temple.

The lady woke up next to her with a start.

"We're here!" She squealed, wrinkles doubling around her eyes as she smiled brightly, before turning to Jessica.

"Oh, I'm home!" Her american accent was thick, round glasses illuminating bright almost crazed eyes. "It's good to be back, huh!"

The woman's reggae music was blasting from the headphones that rested on her shoulders. Bob marley, a peace sign necklace, and brightly coloured tank tops. This woman was the definition of hippie.

Jessica remained quiet.

_Don't make eye contact. Don't show vulnerability. Don't talk to her. Don't do i-_

"You're not from around here!" The lady gave an exasperated gasp of realisation, before her long, bony hands grasped Jessica's arm. Her nails were long, painted a meek purple that had already scraped off. "You poor thing! You look so young too!"

By now, the entire plane could hear their conversation, and Jessica noticed most other passengers giving her a look of pity.

Of course, they had to sit her next to the insane old woman at the back of the plane.

"Well, I'm Michelle!"

_Michelle. Well Michelle, I'm never going to see you ever again once we get off this plane, so please shut up and leave me alone!_

Jessica felt a piece of paper be scrunched into her enclosed hand, like her mischievous Aunt would when sneaking money to her in front of her parents. It seemed a common trend that they both had disturbingly long nails.

"This is my number!" The lady raised her hands dramatically. "You can call me anytime sweetie!"

_You used to call me on my cellphone. Maybe if I sing in my head I can block her squeaky voice out._

Now, Jessica thought her Aunt wasn't all too crazy, this lady was at the top of the list.

"You are so young, and if you ever need help don't be afraid to give me a call! I'll be over in a heartbeat!"

The plane was landing now, shaking riveting and Jessica's ears popping painfully.

"CALL ME AUNTY MICHELLE!"

An important lesson Jessica was taught from a very young age was to "never, under any circumstances, talk to strangers!"

She could hear the "do you understand, Jess?" expressed in a monotone voice playing in the back of her head.

But obviously, this stranger didn't get the message, and when Jessica continued to face forward she poked her roughly in the arm.

"AUNTY MICHELLE, OKAY!?"

The rush of adrenaline was mixed with annoyance. Reggae music was blasting through her ears as they popped, and everything seemed to move in slow motion.

The abundant smile and crumbling number in her hand from the wide eyed woman next to her, as well as the shaking of the plane.

Everything was going in slow motion, and Jessica closed her eyes to take a deep breath.

_Ding!_

"Thank you for taking Qantas Airlines, we have arrived promptly on time in New York after 20 hours and 10 minutes. The weather here is crisp and cold, so make sure you get your sweaters out! We hope you enjoyed your flight. Thank you."

_No fucking thank you. I've spent 20 hours next to a madwoman who doesn't know how to turn her shit music down! She's even wearing shorts and a tanktop. I don't want to see wrinkles shaking from the cold! I'm tired and I did not enjoy my flight because the food is so shit._

_Thank you._

"So what's your name?"

"Amy." She lied. God knows what would happen if she told this woman her real name.

"Well Amy Baby, do you know where a good steak house here is? I'm meeting a friend there, but my phone is out of battery!"

By now, passengers were getting off the plane, only for it to be blocked because of the mass amount of people. Jessica was going to be stuck at the back with this lady for a few more minutes.

"Listen Lady."

"It's Aunty Miche-"

"I don't care! I do not know you, and I do not want to know you. I'm tired, hungry, and if your phone is out of battery that's not my problem. I don't want to call you Aunty, because I have no fucking idea who you are!"

Silence.

The lady blinked through her wide, round glasses, before her yellow teeth flashed again.

"Periods! Amy, I know how you feel. Call Aunty anytime and I'll make you one of my home remedies!"

Jessica's face scrunched in bewilderment, speechless, before sighing and grabbing her bags from the overhead locker, heading as fast as she could for customs.

Thank God old ladies couldn't run, hippies or not.

 


	2. Rhodey's Taxi Service

 

It can be described as the moment where total awareness was achieved. An eye-opener, the ability to see the clouds move across the earth, and not simply see them as still figures floating in the sky.

And yet, amidst her ragged breaths from running, and small beads of sweat trickling from her brow, Jessica felt a sense of euphoria, once she realised where exactly she was.

Or more specifically, where she was to go in the coming hours, days, months.

The possibility of years was farfetched, but she saw them in her ragged breaths, and with a sharp intake of air, grasped them to her tightly. The ideal of being somewhere and doing something excited her, her thirst for adventure rising a cool drink to her lips.

And yet right now, she deemed it would be fitting to have a hot drink, one that stung her lips and tickled her throat with silky milk. A hot chocolate, or a coffee. A craving in her thirst of adventure, different things that piqued her interest and made her want to experience things far and wide.

The air was crisp, cold on the tip of her nose that peeked out of her scarf, nibbling at it as the visible air protruded into her view.

Now, she sat outside the airport, for a moment of silence and peace. Jessica sat quietly and patiently, her hands propped in her lap, fingers grasping at the volume buttons on the side of her phone. Her headphones were in, and her mind was out, preoccupied with future thoughts, endless plans, and a tonne of anxiety mixed with excitement. 

Her wrist itched, and she fidgeted, taking only glancing and fleeting looks at the watch on her wrist. The gold was fake. She was allergic. It was still the cheaper option.

Jessica was a person that could let the world pass by if she wanted. Much like the clouds, at her whim, they could be to the North one minute, and to the West the next. Time waits for no-one, and that doesn't bother her in the slightest. 

But with the world at her doorstep, the surge of adrenaline found that the slowest minutes of her life seemed to tick too slow for her liking. She could not wait.

All of a sudden, she was the same 14 year old girl with only dreams of breathing in the air of other places, and now, years later, she found herself breathing in the air of a new, fresh place.

New York.

She had gotten out, at the expense of sitting next to a hippie old lady for 20 hours. Nonetheless, she had suffered enough, and found a state of resolve in the silence in front of the airport.

Absentmindedly, her phone shone with a string of messages.

MOM : Good luck my beautiful girl!

PAPA : Missing you :-) LOL

CASSANDRA : you'll do amazing boo !!!!

Another name appeared beneath the three messages, and at that moment, she decided to shut her phone off, the click reassuring her that her messages remained unread. At least she knew her phone was connected and had credit.

It wouldn't be long now, and she'd be engulfed in an entirely different culture. Jessica's brain was riveting with excitement and adventure, yet with the music bouncing through one ear and out the other, she felt the burdens of jet lag massaging her shoulders and fluttering her eyes closed.

_HONK._

"Fuck!"

Jessica jumped in a moment of vulnerability that lifted her off her seat and had her scrambling at the phone she had almost thrown across the pavement.

She looked up at the source, to find a sleek, black taxi, contrasting to the many bright yellow ones that had driven past and picked up other visitors. 

It's windows were tinted, and she was sure that as it stopped in front of her it was too dark to be legal. The window was reeled down smoothly, before a friendly face poked itself out.

"Jessica, right?"

"Yes!" Jessica said, placing a hand to her chest and regaining her composure. "Jesus... Yes I am!"

The man had soft features, was dark skinned, and had large, welcoming eyes with no hair.

"Tony told me to come get you! Want me to get your bags?"

Jessica was an independent woman, she didn't need anyone to get her bags for her.

"Oh, no! I'm alright thanks, I can do it mysel..."

Nonetheless, being a gentleman, the man had gotten out of the other side of the taxi. But what had stopped Jessica mid sentence was that when he stepped out from behind it, his height decreased, and he wheeled himself to the boot in a wheelchair.

"It's ok!" She pressed, alarmed, "Really! It's just a ba-"

"Are you gonna argue with me doing my job, Jess? I can call you that right?"

"Um, yeah." She replied weakly, only to see her bag lifted seamlessly and thrown into the automatic boot.

When they both settled into the front seats of the taxi, the car shuffled slightly. Jessica tried her best not to stare, instead opting for silence as she tried to contain her excitement.

"I'm Rhodey." He broke the silence. "Ask away."

She turned her head to the side, a foreshadowed thing to do, and she blinked at him blankly. "I know you wanna ask why the hell I'm in a wheelchair and why I can't walk on my own two feet unless lookin' like a goldfish. Everyone wants to know. I'm telling you, it's ok to ask."

Another long pause of silence, before Jessica felt the tension in her shoulders untie loosely.

"Alright." She agreed slowly. "Enlighten me. What's your story?"

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, now he the one whom was surprised, as they stopped at a red light. She could see the reflections of the lights against his skin, revealing hardened lines along a kind man's face, an underlying burden. He furrowed his brows, creating streaks across his forehead.

"Nobody's ever asked me that before..." He voiced his uncertainties.

Jessica faced towards the front again, her own eyes shining against the lights.

"Well, what were you expecting me to ask?"

"Something predictable. Not that."

"I'm not a predictable person."

Rhodey took a right, onto the highway. The car increased it's speed as it cruised seamlessly through traffic. Jessica noticed him smile to himself.

"That'll get you 'round New York. I can tell. And my story?" He sighed. "I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Paralysed up to my hips, used to be an agent. Got shot at midair, and it all went downhill from there."

Jessica remained silent for a moment.

"You're a fighter, then." She concluded. "And now, a taxi driver."

"If you put it like that it sounds stupid. What's your story?"

"I don't have one." They entered New York city at last. "I'm here to create one."

 

 


	3. The Foreigner

 

The first glimpse of such an extravagant city that Jessica got was through a tinted window of a paralysed taxi man's car. However, that paralysed taxi man had a story.

"You're an ambitious person. You'll suit this city and Stark Tower..." He manoeuvred his way through streets with familiarity. "They will look after you, just like they did me. Tony and I had been friends for years, and he's always helped me, and I've always been there on call. He's annoying as hell, but after the incident, he pledged himself to finding a way to bring life back into my legs, and that business he's got there? It's mighty successful, and he fundraised to help the research for the technology to aid in my recovery. He's a good man, amongst other things."

"Other things?"

"Billionaire playboy with way too much time on his hands. Also notable scientist and entrepreneur."

"Other things." Jessica noted. 

Rhodey laughed, wrinkles forming beside his eyes as he turned a corner, to reveal a busy street overcrowded with lights, billboards and people. A large, bulbous man walked his dog at such a late hour, bumping into a rushing woman busy on her phone as she dropped her coffee, spilling it everywhere. Jessica threw her head back and openly laughed.

"Ya think that's funny?" Rhodey shook his head. "Wait 'till you get in there. They're a real bunch."

He pulled over then into a lobby, following a line of other taxis into an extravagant entrance, laced with gold, furnished with red carpet, large looming doors and many windows. Many different people were escorted out of their taxis, some whom Jessica noticed were well established, famous, or looking simply brimming with wealth.

And then, there was her, the young woman burdened by a 20 hour plane flight.

It was Rhodey's turn to laugh as he wheeled around the car, meeting beside her and pushing her luggage towards her openly shocked expression.

"By fit in here, I meant that you'd stand out like a sore thumb."

Jessica could feel eyes searching her like a sniper's aim. And if they were snipers, she'd have a number of red dots littering her frame. 

She turned to Rhodey one last time for assurance, hissing at him. "I look homeless compared to these people!"

"Nah, you just look like a foreigner. It's really obvious. Especially with that accent." Rhodey opened the door to his taxi, proceeding to lift himself in. "Gotta scoot though. Jess," he looked up at her. "The only thing I can say is good luck, you'll need it."

"Just as much as you need a new pair of legs?"

The wrinkles around Rhodey's eyes accentuated as he laughed, banging the horn on the wheel making everyone jump at the sudden noise. Now, all attention was towards the car, where Rhodey lifted a hand to wipe a tear out of his eyes, clapping his hands together as he leant back in his seat. She wanted to see him laugh more.

"More than that. Believe me. You don't have to pay me, anytime you need me give me a call and pay me with jokes, a man like me needs more of them, what with sitting in a car old day with pompous pricks."

Jessica felt a business card promptly be placed in her hand, before the door closed shut and she saw the ivory black taxi speed away into the night, engulfed by the city's lights and buildings, before it weaved out of her vision, and she finally turned around, tucking the card in her pocket.

Amongst the littered Starbucks cups, now dirt ridden and distorted from the trampling crowd of New York city, as well as the many dropped taxi tickets that told tales of adventure, risque late night journeys and aristocracy, Jessica finally took in a moment to breath in the city of life.

Basically, she breathed in pollution.

But also, a completely new life, culture and experience, devoid of anything she was ever used to.

It was almost midnight, but she felt the rush of multiple taxis behind her active, and had never seen a city so alive. The city in itself breathed. An aura of business, high rise meets, class, and people of all different origins, beliefs, races and sixes. And yet, she had never felt so foreign - so out of place.

She enjoyed it thoroughly.

The buildings around her rose high, like her hopes and dreams. The many lights reflected in her eyes as she watched the large screens and the bright city scape.

The smell was odd. It filled her nostrils and lungs and rose her to the tip of her toes. A musky, humid smell, likely from the amass of people. There were many foreign scents, expensive perfumes wafting past her as people entered the lobby. The building she had been dropped in front of was looming, grand and bright, at the top reading in bold letters:

_STARK._

"Excuse me miss, are you lost!?"

She heard a shout over the many sounds of the city, finally being brought to attention. "Do you require any assistance?"

A man approached her, with a receding hairline yet a comfortable face, containing a soft expression of genuine care and bright eyes.

"Yeah!" Jessica smiled at him. "I applied for a job here, just arrived in New York."

The man raised his brows in understanding.

"Oh yes! Are you Jessica?"

"What gave me away?"

"The accent. You'll be the talk of the tower soon enough! Welcome to the team."

Jessica had to squint to see the small writing on his badge as she reached for a hand shake.

"Thanks..." She said slowly. "Phil..."

He pointed to the main doors.

"Go through that way, then just ask for Tony. Bastard gotta be somewhere around the bottom floor - that's his section usually."

Jessica nodded, before Phil grabbed her luggage for her, gesturing to a lobby boy to get it transported.

"I'm always out here if you need. We'll take care of your bags. Good luck!"

Jessica wondered why she had been deemed good luck twice, but shrugged it off, gesturing to Phil as he returned to aiding customers with their bags and directing them on where to go.

Independence was a privilege, and she realised that if she was going to make end's meet in such a large city, Jessica would have to learn not to depend on anyone and figure things out herself.

But for a brief moment, she closed her eyes and retccolected.

Ok, Jess, you got this! Work: check. Luggage: check. ID: check!

You'll be fine. There won't be any insane hippie old ladies in there. Now just go for it!

She opened her eyes again, and they shone in the city lights, reflecting her new life.

The buildings here were high, higher than she'd ever seen before. They scraped the sky, just like her dreams. Many had doubted her, most thought she wouldn't make it far, but here she stood in the city of life.

And yet, she was fully aware that with such high dreams, the fall was perilous, but she would climb, no matter how hard she feel, or how many times she slipped.

Looking forward again, she saw bold letters, similar to the ones on top of the tower, instead reading:

_THE SWINGING MJOLNIR._

She shrugged, took a deep breath and clasped her phone in one hand, taking her first step into her new life.

"Don't know what the fuck a Mjolnir is..." She whispered to herself. "But here I go!"

 


	4. The Swinging What?

 

Ok, Jessica will admit, she was so tired and far gone that she got stuck in the revolving doors, fumbling a few times.

"Ouch!" She banged her head.

She was tired, definitely. It was almost midnight and after a 20 hour flight, flying across another hemisphere and travelling 12 full hours into another season - she was more than jet-lagged.

She stumbled her way out, cursing under her breath. People entered the lobby, now paying no attention to her, and she felt small. A loud, boisterous laugh made her finally look up.

"You are very funny, my lady!" A large, calloused hand placed itself on her arm, holding Jessica up and steadying her dizzy form. 

Her vision focused on a handsome man. Not her type, but damn.

He had a large toothy grin that showed amusement, with a cheeky twinkle in his blue eyes as he guffawed.

"I watched you in the spinning door! Looks like you've had a few before coming here, my lady." His speech was odd.

"What? No! I'm not drun-"

"Well my lady!" He interrupted, patting her on the head. "If you're not drunk, then I'm not doing my job properly!"

He stoop to his full height, now towering over Jessica. This man was broad, muscular. She eyed him up and down, noticing a confident, upright posture that began with neatly tied back blonde hair and a red blazer, with a black shirt underneath.

"Welcome to the Swinging Mjolnir."

"The what?"

"Mjolnir!"

"Ok, that thing. What is it?"

"It's a hammer!"

"Why the hell is a restaurant named after a hammer!?"

"You as too many questions, little lady."

Compared to this man, she was an ant,yes, but Jessica prided herself on her average height. At the nickname he had appointed her, she felt her eyebrow twitch in annoyance. She wasn't short, but that didn't mean she was overly tall either.

"Is it your job to ridicule your customers?"

"You're not a customer, so yes, of course." The twinkle in his eye brightened, shooting her a wink as he nudged to inside the establishment. "If you want to find him, just go to the bar."

Jessica wanted to flip a table, and she knew she was perfectly capable of doing so. Instead, she used the breathing exercises her third grade health class had taught her, and turned on her heels, away from the annoyance in front of her. She was a ticking time bomb, susceptible to blow at any moment with the circumstances she had been through. She needed to find a bed, and fast, like an explorer searching for lost treasure.

At this rate, the best option she had was to keep walking, find the billionaire playboy, scientist, and entrepreneur, and get settled in as soon as possible.

The Swinging Whatever was a grand place.

An Italian linger, with a hint of New York, cascading around her and surrounding her completely as she finally entered. The intake of a sharp breath, the shock of an aristocratic environment. The sonnets of grandiose, uplifting and strong.

Her lungs fillet with the choir of chatter, the clinging of glasses together and laughter. Taking a fleeting glance around her, Jessica was engulfed by a feeling of class, yet a tinge of the risque.

Both a bar and a restaurant, Jessica had stormed past the man down a small path of stairs to experience that the life of New York was not only outside, but everywhere, now confined to tables filled with people, stacks of glasses and gasps from well presented food.

As was the night life of New York, Jessica found solace in such a busy scene. Busier than what she was used to, but it reminded her of home. Light's mirrored her every step from the ceiling, reflecting off of polished black tile. She had past many different people, all enjoying the night, before arriving at a long bar, stools ridden across it.

There was the mix of music, the grandiose sonnets of light opera in the background, the smell of food and the clanging of glasses coming together in cheers. A few rowdy laughs, and yet all maintaining a certain aura.

Jessica took in the people around her as she sat. There were people of all ages, whether it be young and in the ripe of partying, or fairly middle-aged companions after a tiring day at work. Even elderly couples were present, wooing each other as if they were young and beautiful again over a bottle of vintage wine. Jessica noticed that all were dressed immaculately. She had walked into the land of aristocracy.

Her plan was to pull up an employee when they weren't busy and inquire about her job, but as she sat, she noticed eyes following her. Americans sure did like to stare.

Jessica wasn't one to be self conscious about her appearance, but with so many people staring, she realised she looked like that one new kid in school that nobody had known or heard of. Truly, a foreigner.

Her dark, long hair was in voluminous waves, cascading down the small of her back. She was smart not to wear any makeup on the flight, and the restaurant was warm, so she had no need for her scarf, now tucking it into her backpack.

She had black leggings on, a plain white shirt that barely reached above her belly button, and a deep navy jacket.

If this restaurant was a place to wear heels, she obviously felt out of place with an old pair of adidas shoes sporting her feet.

An elderly lady clad in royal purple glanced her way, and she shot a smile. The lady looked surprised, caught in a glance, before smiling weakly back, and returning to her meal.

Speaking of food, whatever she was eating looked incredibly delicious. Jessica's stomach growled promptly at the thought, leaving her in a trance. However, her food induced thoughts were interrupted when she felt a presence next to her. A man, wearing a blue suit and sporting a moustachehe.

"Hey hot shot," his lips curled into a confident smile. "Here for a drink?"

 


End file.
